


from the rust within their throats is a groan

by buries



Series: [challenge] kink bingo fills [12]
Category: The Vampire Diaries & Related Fandoms, The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Chair Sex, Church Sex, Cowgirl Position, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Human Elena Gilbert, Human/Vampire Relationship, Mild Blood, Naked Female Clothed Male, Public Blow Jobs, Semi-Public Sex, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 03:07:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29236560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buries/pseuds/buries
Summary: Anticipation curls inside of her as she waits for his fingers to touch her. It’s inevitable, just like they are. She knows that it’s going to happen, and she finds comfort in that.—Elena and Stefan have sex in a church.
Relationships: Elena Gilbert/Stefan Salvatore
Series: [challenge] kink bingo fills [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1920490
Kudos: 12





	from the rust within their throats is a groan

**Author's Note:**

> This can be set anywhere in the series, season 1, season 2, season 3 or in the future where Stelena is still together. Elena is human.
> 
> This was written for Trace's kink bingo prompt, "sex in a church."
> 
> Title is from Edgar Allen Poe's "The Bells." This is unbeta'd, so all mistakes are mine.

"Sh," Elena laughs, pressing her fingers to his lips. She readjusts on his lap, her other hand on his shoulder as she straddles him in the seat. The confessional booth is smaller than she had imagined it’d be, and his long legs make the space feel like a tight fit.

Stefan’s hands slide up her back firmly, his face buried in the crook of her neck. His teeth graze her skin and she sighs, tilting her head to the side.

"Stefan," she whispers quietly. Tugs in air like a little prayer. "Stop being so loud."

He hums low in his throat, his hand falling away from her back. She takes this as her opportunity to readjust on his wide lap and lifts herself up, standing on her feet. She yelps when his hands slide up her thighs and beneath her dress.

"My, my, my, Miss Gilbert." Smirking up at her, his hands squeeze her bare ass. She presses her lips together, doing her best to remain as quiet as possible. He’s not going to make her speak louder than she wants to. "Where are your panties?"

She peers down at him innocently as she sits on his hands. His palms are warm against her ass and she does her best to ignore her beating heart. She knows he can hear it sing as loud in her chest. She’d like to think his joins her in its quick song.

Curving her hands around his shoulders, she tilts her chin upward, and says haughtily, "I’ll have you know that it was laundry day, Mr Salvatore."

He makes a noise as he peers up at her approvingly. His green eyes are dark. "Huh." Stefan pulls his hands away from her ass and slides them over her hips. Sliding them from her hipbones, his hands are warm and big and protective on the bare skin of her thighs. He presses his fingers into her inner thighs to peel her legs open. "And you’ve worn all your panties?"

She nods, humming in the affirmative. "Yes," she says. Her fingers curl into his shoulders as she readjusts on his lap once more, her heart now lodged in her throat. Anticipation curls inside of her as she waits for his fingers to touch her. It’s inevitable, just like they are. She knows that it’s going to happen, and she finds comfort in that.

Sliding his palm along her inner thigh, she gasps when he slides his hand beneath her cunt and curls his fingers upward against the seam of her. 

He hums, feigning concern. "You’re wet, Miss Gilbert," he says, then smiles widely. His eyes follow suit and he looks comical; she can’t help but laugh, slapping her hand against her mouth to muffle it quickly. "In a _church._ "

"Shush." She points her finger at him threateningly. 

"Does the minister do it for you? Should I get some robes?"

"Stop."

He licks his bottom lip and she watches as his tongue darts to the corner of his mouth. She wants to lean forward to trace the outline of his lips, but she stays strong, sitting on his hand as his fingers merely tap against her as if her cunt’s capable of assisting him in thought. 

"I can be a priest for you," he says, smiling widely. "Is that what does it for you, Elena? Don’t lie, you’re in a church."

Biting her bottom lip, she enjoys how his gaze lingers on mouth. "You’re right," she says, sighing deeply. She grinds down against his fingers and pants softly, needing more than his fingertips breaching her shallowly. "Ministers do it for me, Stefan. Maybe if you were more saintly, I’d be wet all the time."

He lets out a quick, loud laugh, and she presses her hand firmly against his mouth. " _Sh!_ "

He licks her hand, sending a tingle down her spine, and she withdraws it slowly so she can stare at his mouth hungrily. She’s almost convinced she’s the predator, stalking her prey, capturing him between her thighs as she lulls him with the familiar warmth of her body. 

Elena spies the playful crinkle of his brow as he tilts his head to peer up at her with a worried expression. "You’re not wet all the time?" It’s followed with a disappointed noise, then the biting his bottom lip. "Man, what am I doing wrong?"

"Talking, for one," she says, curling her hands around his shoulders and bearing down. "And not fingering me."

His smile widens. Brows lifting, his green eyes widen as he teases, "You want me to finger you in a _church_?" The warmth of his voice is a comforting hymn. 

She huffs exasperatedly and glares down at him. "You dragged me in here and started fondling me. _I_ am the victim."

Stefan only smiles, chuckling softly. Keeps his hand between her legs and dares to brush his fingers against her cunt. She inhales deeply, glaring down at him as if she’s capable of striking him with a bolt of lightning for his insolence.

He chews his bottom lip shyly. "Do you want to turn around? If someone comes in to hear your confession, they’re going to be suspicious you’re facing the wrong way."

Biting at her lips, she narrows her eyes at him before she uses his shoulders as leverage and pushes herself up and off him. She watches as he’s quick to undo his belt and the button and zipper of his jeans, and he pulls them down his hips.

"In a moment," she says. She lowers herself to the ground between his legs and kneels up as straight as she can. Her heart hammers hard like thunder within her chest. Stefan stares down at her stupidly, lips parted. "I have to pray first." Licking her lips, she bows her head and mouths at his hard cock through his dark briefs.

"Oh, fuck," he groans quietly. His hands are in her hair, combing through it gently.

She doesn’t lift her mouth from his briefs as she licks at him. Mumbling against his warm cock, "Don’t swear, Stefan."

"I’m sorry," he breathes out harshly. "But the church is going to have to forgive me when your mouth is on my dick."

Elena merely chuckles, emboldened by his reaction. She sucks hard around the fabric of his cock and drags her tongue along his bulge as hard as she can. He’s panting above her and she knows he can smell her growing wetter and wetter by the second. Good; he should repent to her with his rough tugs of breath.

Pulling back from him, she hooks her fingers into the waistband of his briefs and peels them down. He lifts his hips to help her, and once they’re past his hips and ass, she pulls her fingers free and wraps her hand around his half-hard cock.

Looking up at him, she smiles at the way his eyes darken. He stares down at her, lips parted, throat tight as he swallows loud enough for her to hear. She tilts her head to the side and frowns playfully. "What’s wrong, Stefan?" she asks quietly. "Do you want to confess something?"

He swallows thickly and shifts on the chair as she begins to stroke his cock leisurely. His skin is warm and she thinks she can hear the pounding of his heart.

Any words that sat firmly on his tongue dissipate. He leans his head back and closes his eyes momentarily before he peers down at her. His green eyes are wide and hungry, and Elena smiles, feeling emboldened by the way he looks at her like she’s something he’s never seen before.

She bows her head and drags her tongue from the base of his cock to the head. She licks at his slit and he moans as loud as a knock on the door. She sucks on the head of his cock, uncaring if he’s quiet. She likes it when Stefan’s loud. He spends too much time locked away in his own head that she wants to hear him sing.

His chest heaves as she takes more of his cock into her mouth. The weight of him is familiar, enough to make her think she’s on her knees on the wooden floor of his room. Moving her head up and down, his fingers curl tightly in her hair, clipped nails scraping along her scalp. When she moans, he moans, and she feels everything he does and hums reverberate through her as if they’re one.

"Elena," he murmurs, panting hard. "'Lena—fuck."

She listens to him pray to her, panting hard as he tries to stifle his moans. There’s a few people in the church, lingering in the corners and the pews. She wonders if they can hear him, and the thought of them sitting where they are trying to ignore the sounds coming from the booth only makes her suck his cock harder.

He bucks his hips and digs his nails tightly into her hair. She pulls her mouth off of him, panting hard as she licks his slit once more. She peers up at him and licks her lips, and curls her hands to his naked thighs. "I think it’s time for you to confess, don’t you?"

Stefan peers down at her dumbly, lips parted. He nods. "Think so."

He watches her with bright eyes as she rises to stand and turns around. He helps her sit back against him, his hand holding his cock. It takes a few tries before his other hand helps align her so she can sink down onto his dick. She moans as he stretches her, easily pushing inside of her wet cunt. He bows his head against the back of her neck, hot breath burning through her dress.

He moans in her ear and grips her waist hard. Once she’s found the right angle, she rests her hands on the side of his thighs to tilt herself and start experimentally rocking against him. "Does this—"

"Mhm," he nods, his mouth wet against her clothed shoulder. 

His hands are on her belly, pressing hard as he curves to her back. Elena glides his hands up her chest to her covered breasts and pants softly, beginning to grind down against his cock. It’s hard to rock against him without pulling off of him; she settles for small thrusts, rocking against him roughly. Small, sharp grunts rumble through her chest.

"Can’t hear your confession in this," he murmurs hotly against her ear. She withdraws her hands from his and gropes his thighs. His fingers blindly find the tie of her dress on her side and undoes it, pulling it open. Heat burns her skin as she sits on his lap naked; no bra, no panties, just a wraparound dress and his cock inside of her.

Laughing breathlessly, he murmurs quietly. "Seriously?"

"Told you," she says, panting. "Laundry day."

Stefan’s hands are warm on her belly as one glides up the length of her torso to cup her bare breast. He kisses her bare shoulder, teeth grazing her skin. Elena’s body feels hot beneath his touch and mouth, and she shallowly rocks against his cock as his hand presses flat against her belly.

He hums against her ear and slides his hand down her stomach to her hipbone. She gasps when he slides his hand between her legs and rubs his finger against her clit. His breath scorches her neck. "Forgive me father for I have—"

"Shh." She leans back into him and moans as he rubs at her. "Shh, shh, shh." She palms his hand on her breast with one hand and holds his wrist with the other, and grinds down against him as best she can. She whines, panting hard, feeling the church itself rumble beneath her toes as she presses down hard against the ground in her Converse.

Planting her feet flat against the ground, she lifts herself up to plunge down against his cock. Stefan grips her breast hard and moans, pressing his fingers into her clit. He withdraws his hand and rests it on her belly, pressing hard against her as she tries to thrust her hips and fuck him.

Teeth drag sharply against the skin of her shoulder. Her heart leaps up into her throat and she grinds down against his cock hard, moaning a little too sharply. He drags his thumb over her nipple and squeezes her breast. "Stef—"

He kisses the back of her neck, his teeth gently grazing her skin.

"You can."

His teeth press into her skin, leaving an imprint of his fangs. She pants. He hums low and rough, and he bucks his hips up to hers. He laughs when she cries out loudly and shushes her kindly. "Not here."

Although she feels disappointed she won’t bite her, she leans back into his chest and opens her legs wider, groaning when he bucks up into her. His hand slides between her legs again to rub at her clit again, and her entire body feels like it’s on fire. She grinds down against him as best as she can, arching her chest into his hand as he palms her breast.

He mouths at her neck, murmuring he loves her. Elena’s lips part and her mouth feels too parched to utter it back, but she squeeze his wrist and slides her hand down to press his fingers against her clit in her own effort of reciprocation.

When she comes, it’s with a long, sharp cry. Stefan covers her mouth with his hand to muffle the sound and he bucks up into her, hips moving hard enough to make the chair squeak. Something electrifying sparks hot in her gut and cunt at the rough pressure of his hand against her mouth. She moans against his soft palm as he rubs at her spent clit. Elena reaches back blindly to brush her fingers against his hair to bring him closer.

She rocks against his cock, clenching and unclenching, and she murmurs his name against the palm of his hand. His hand almost slips from her mouth before she presses it there, licking against his lifelines. He keeps his hand cupped around her mouth, mindful to not press it up against her nose. His mouth stays at her shoulder, teeth grazing her torturously.

When Elena bites down against his lifelines, Stefan’s hips stutter and he gasps hard against her neck, grazing teeth sinking deep into her skin as he cries it into her. Her shoulder stings; all she can feel is pleasure. 

His teeth dig into her shoulder but never move. She’s not afraid he’ll rip her apart. She pants hard, crying softly. Biting into the palm of his hand and shifting her hips harshly, he comes hard.

Panting in his lap, he wraps his arms around her middle and licks at her skin to clean the blood from her shoulder. She keeps her hand against his neck, tilting her head to peer back at him. Stefan leans forward, chest firm against her back, and slopes his mouth clumsily against the side of her mouth. His lips are tangy with her blood.

Elena laughs against his lips between laboured breaths.

"What?" He smiles loosely, his brows furrowing. His face is damp and the pulse in his neck still pounds beneath her fingers. "El—"

"Nothing," she says, smiling back at him. "I’ve just never had sex in a church before."

"And that’s funny?"

She swallows audibly and nods. Her skin heats; her chest and neck become fiery red. "I can never come back here."

He laughs and she shushes him, twisting to cover his mouth with her hand firmly. He licks at her hand and she wrinkles her nose, and after pointing her finger up warningly at him to behave, withdraws her hand from his mouth. She has to peel his hands away from her body as she pulls off of him, missing his cock inside of her. She feels wet and sticky between her legs, but she stands and turns around, letting him take in her naked chest and hips and the hair between her legs before she begins to wrap her dress tightly around her and tie it in a knot.

"You should wear that all the time," he says. He sits arrogantly on the chair, legs spread, hands on the armrests with his wet cock still out. It’s when she arches her brow that he begins to pull himself together, briefs and jeans up his hips. "I like that dress. You should only have that dress."

Elena chuckles, brushing her hair behind her ears. All of her feels hot and sticky. She holds her hand out for him to help pull him up. His fingers intertwine with hers, palm warm and slightly damp, just like her own. He stands close to her in the small booth, and his hand slides down her back.

"Stefan," she says warningly. Glancing up at the booth’s ceiling, she looks at him and whispers, "We’re in a _church._ "

He smirks down at her. "Not like that’s ever stopped us before."

When Elena opens the door to the booth, she does her best to card her hands through her mussed hair and step out without making any eye contact with anyone. She ignores the way her thighs feel hot and wet. Stefan’s hand is warm in hers, and while she tries to walk quietly through the church to the two big front doors, Stefan struts proudly.

"Do you think anyone heard us?" he whispers quietly. Elena blushes deeply. He must hear the sound of her blood rise to her skin as he chuckles. "You were kind of loud."

"Shut up," she says through gritted teeth. "It echoes in here." She wraps her arm around his back and tries to tug him forward.

Once they’re at the door, she palms his ass and gives him a squeeze through his jeans. Stefan’s laugh is like a lightning strike as she opens the wide doors and steps outside with his hand in hers.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at [Tumblr.](https://finnicks.tumblr.com/)


End file.
